Lightning in a Bottle
by icings
Summary: Five times Emma was right there when Snow needed her (with all the things everyone thinks she's feeling), and one time she wasn't (with everything she actually felt). A Charming Family / Snowing pregnancy story, with minor CS dynamics.


_one_

There's no confusion. She'd thought maybe there would be, but there wasn't. She knows what's real and what isn't. The life with Henry that Regina had given her... it felt like a beautiful dream. The kind that you wake up from and wish you hadn't. The kind that sticks, that you carry around with you long after sleep fades away.

But a dream nonetheless.

And while she has come to discover the line between fantasy and reality is far more blurred than she ever would have imagined, she has never been one to be confused over whether her dreams were real.

Emma Swan knows when something is too good to be true.

The memories Regina gave her and the story she has actually lived are two very different things, and she knows it.

She didn't raise Henry. That baby boy she'd loved with her whole heart, he hadn't been hers. His first smile, his first step, his first word - Mama - all those moments had been magicked into her head.

It wasn't real. Maybe for Regina it had been, but not for her.

It was heartbreaking. And also terrifying. Because those memories, false though they are, are the only experience she has with babies.

And now she has made it home, to a very, very pregnant mother. Making her very, very close to being a big sister.

A tiny baby is about to become a big part of her life, and that's a brand new thing for her, you know, in her reality.

But pregnancy?

_That_ she's done.

So when she walks into the apartment one morning to find her mother glaring at well, thin air, she knows what's up.

"Mary Margaret?" she prompts.

"What?" her mother asks, far more snappishly than befits her usual nature, before she catches herself. "Oh. Sorry, Em. I'm just... distracted."

She manages not to smile, and instead handles the situation with the gravity it requires. "What can I get you?"

At this, Snow turns to her, eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry?"

"I've been pregnant too, remember? I know the effects of a pregnancy craving when I see it. So I repeat, what do you need?"

Snow's face falls dramatically, as if having to admit her weakness is too much to bear, but she has been caught and they both know it, and Emma cheerfully waits for the announcement of the gluttonous indulgence her mother requires. Chocolate cake? A hot fudge sundae? No, no, she knows her family, it'll be one of Granny's cinnamon rolls, the big giant gooey kind -

"Oranges," Snow finally wails, burying her head in her hands.

Cut off dramatically from her imaginings of own pregnancy cravings past, she gapes at her mother. "Seriously?" she asks, knowingly risking both death and dismemberment, but the irony is so strong she's simply unable to help herself. "_Snow White_ wants... oranges?"

Snow's head lifts to stare back at her, and the glare on her mother's face is the most dangerous expression she's ever seen there.

Snapping to attention, she wipes any hint of a smile off her face. Because of course this isn't funny. Not to Snow. This is crucial. Oranges have become the centre of her mother's universe for this moment in time, and so oranges she shall have. "Right. Oranges. I'll be right back."

Thanking the universe that there's a decent grocery store just down the street from the apartment building, she damn near sprints the distance to it. Cravings are serious, time-sensitive business, and she knows from personal experience that there will be hell to pay if the craving passes before it is fulfilled.

But she comes to a sudden stop as soon as she's actually in the store, scanning the produce section with a wide-eyed horror that is steadily approaching panic.

The thing is, this grocery store has bewildered her ever since she's come to learn of this town's fairy tale truth. No one can leave or enter Storybrooke, and yet everyone still needs food to survive, so the store has always been appreciably well stocked. Where the food comes from, she can't say - perhaps Regina magics it in - but the point being, there's a lot of selection here.

And damn it, she hadn't asked Snow for specifics!

Deciding there's no time for questions, she snatches a basket and tears through the store, grabbing on her way a bag of full sized regular oranges, a bag of tangerines and a decent sized box of clementines. She stops by the canned goods for mandarin oranges - because hey, for canned fruit those things are damn good - and just to play it safe, chooses several selections of orange juice - pulp and no pulp both, because while usually Snow's fine with pulp, in pregnant instances, you can never be too careful.

Finally ready to pay, she finds herself thanking the universe again when she reaches the cash. She'd forgotten Bashful worked here, but it works for her to see one of Snow's - very much aware of the pregnancy - old friends. Helps make her look somewhat less like an insane orange fiend.

Indeed, the dwarf gives her a tiny grin as he scans her orange-topia through. "How is Snow doing?" he asks.

Finally, finally, she lets herself laugh. "She'll be just fine as soon as I get her oranges to her."

Bashful's smile changes, goes impossibly fond, and more then a little bit sad. "You're a good daughter, Emma," he says, just slightly red in the cheeks, a blush that increases as she gapes at him. "And you know, this is a bittersweet thing for all of us. It especially must be for you. We - all the dwarves - we just think it's alright if you're sad. About all of this."

"Thanks for that," she manages, just slightly stunned, as he hands her bags of groceries to her. "And this," she adds, gesturing with the bags. I better get them to her."

"Of course. Have a good day Emma."

"You too," she calls, rushing out of the store.

Maybe she's a little overwhelmed, a little distracted as she makes the run back from the store, but walking into the apartment and having Snow turn and smile at her, as warm and affectionate as anyone ever has... she knows right where she's supposed to be.

"Thank you, Emma, you didn't have to..." Snow trails off, staring at everything she carries.

"I wasn't sure which ones to get," she admits sheepishly, shrugging as she pulls the selection out of the bags. "But there's always so many people coming and going here that I figured anything you didn't want, we could just give away like Halloween for oranges or something and... are you crying? Did I get it all wrong? Should I have gotten a blood orange or two? I knew I should have..."

"No!" Snow says, now laughing and crying both. "No it's just... it's perfect, Em. It's exactly what I needed today. Thank you for taking care of me."

Damn, now she's pretty sure she's blushing like Bashful.

"I was... I was happy to," she murmurs, letting her mother pull her into the hug she clearly needed, even allowing herself the indulgence of resting her head on Snow's shoulder for a moment or two. "Did I make it back in time before the craving passed?"

Again, Snow laughs. "Yeah, you did. All these oranges look like the most delicious thing ever right now. You really helped me today, Em. Now can I ask you to join me for a glass of OJ and an orange? It seems I have a selection."

For her mother, she manages a smile. "Definitely."

* * *

_two _

The apartment had long since become what Emma privately thought of as 'Nevengers central', for while the dwarves and Red and Granny and everyone else often came by to join in the discussions and plans for investigations, the constants were the same five who had come together to save Henry in Neverland - herself, her parents, Hook and Regina. She preferred it that way, actually. The five of them worked better together than anyone else did. It was strange, she knew, but she and Regina had come to a strange sort of mutual trust and understanding. And with everyone else's memories of the year in the Enchanted Forest slowly coming back in the most unusual of ways (not the events themselves, but the 'feeling' of them, so though they cannot remember how it came to be, her parents and Regina know that after decades of animosity they'd come to a true understanding of each other), it just works.

And with Snow heavily pregnant and Charming disinclined to having her out at secret meetings in the woods in the dark of night, meeting at the apartment just works best.

And with everyone suddenly so bewilderingly comfortable with each other, the apartment also serves as a decent enough place for everyone to hang out once the meeting has ended.

Her father and Hook have become quite fond of playing cards together, of all random things, so it's no longer unusual to see the two of them pull out a deck and a couple beers as meetings wind down; and Regina has gotten into the habit of sticking around to hear stories about how Henry is doing.

So the five of them just... _are_. Sometimes Robin stays late too, joining into the card games with glee, to Regina's ire and Snow's tendency to get _ideas_ (when one is in true love, apparently, they see love matches everywhere).

But most often Robin leaves with everyone else as the meeting ends, a very young son to get back to, leaving the Nevengers to themselves.

That happens to be the case on this night, and indeed, she can feel herself relaxing into the couch, carefully avoiding watching Hook and the way he laughs as he taunts her father, and latching onto any distraction from the pirate she can find.

So when Snow pulls out an enormous pile of paint chips and immediately commences quite obviously agonizing over them... well that distraction is as good as any.

"Hey," she starts, catching Snow's attention. "You trying to pick out a colour for the baby's room?"

Her parents have made a lot of changes to the apartment, converting the large upstairs loft that had once been her own bedroom into two smaller rooms, one a nursery, and another bedroom for themselves, at least until the baby is bigger. Snow hadn't been a fan of the idea of being a floor away from a newborn, and Emma couldn't blame her for that much. And with her parents' bedroom now upstairs, it had certainly opened up a lot of living space downstairs.

It was bittersweet, sure, to see her old space changed so drastically, but it only made sense. Even if Henry had his memories, and even if she decided to stay after this latest crisis was over - which she was increasingly tempted to do - the apartment had barely worked for the four of them. Adding a baby to the mix, and it was damn near impossible.

No, she and Henry were good at Granny's.

And if they stayed, she'd find a wonderful place of their own for them. (She suspected this time Regina would be less likely to hinder her ability to stay).

Which leaves them with the matter at hand, which is a nursery needing a paint colour.

"I just can't make up my mind," Snow sighs. "Every time I think I have, I notice a different colour that might work. Or I decide the colour's too girly if the baby is a boy, or vice versa."

"Go with a neutral colour," Regina suggests. "You've got some nice yellows and greens here. They'll work for a boy or girl."

Snow nods at that, not even looking up, too busy pondering the chips Regina had pointed out. Emma does look up, surprised with Regina's attempt to actually help, only to find Regina looking just as amazed with herself.

"Is it too obvious though?" Snow asks. "Too 'she had no idea what the baby was, so she went with a neutral'? Gods, I wish I had my mother-in-law's charm."

"We could break into Gold's shop, see if he had it in his stash?" Regina offers, as cheerfully as she has ever said anything in her life.

Emma snorts. "As town sheriff, shouldn't I be discouraging that?"

"Are you still sheriff?" Snow asks conversationally. "You were gone a year. Even though that year didn't happen here. And was wiped out. So does that still count? Wait, I'm confusing myself. Mommy brain."

"Don't worry dear, you're confusing the rest of us too," Regina drawls.

"If I'm not sheriff, is anyone?"

Snow and Regina both tilt their heads, pondering that.

"Guess not. So that's that. Welcome back, Sheriff," Snow teases.

"Shouldn't that decision be my call?" Regina asks, eyebrow raised.

"By all means," Snow replies cheerfully, gesturing for the Mayor to take it away.

Nodding regally, Regina turns her attention back to Emma. "Welcome back, Sheriff."

Laughing, Emma looks down at the chips still littering the coffee table, when one in particular catches her attention. "Thank you, thank you. And my first act as returning Sheriff is preventing an unnecessary B&amp;E. We don't need the charm, when there's so many colours that work for boys and girls. What about this one, Mare?" she suggests, handing it to her.

"Pale blue?" Regina asks. "Isn't that more typically boyish than you want?"

Snow tilts her head. "But no, if you really look at it in the light, it's more of a periwinkle blue. There's that purple tint to it that would make it work for a girl too. Soft, which is what I wanted for the baby. It's a beautiful, beautiful colour, Em," she comments, and the rising excitement in her voice tells Emma that it is a serious contender.

"It, um..." she attempts, before clearing her throat and trying again. "It's the colour of the dress you were wearing when I came home, and saw you, realized you were pregnant. Realized I had a baby brother or sister in there. That's why I picked it."

Finally looking up from the colour selection, Snow's eyes are huge and watery as they meet her own. "Oh, Em..."

Emma bites her lip, fighting off the descending edges of the panic she almost always feels whenever one of her parents look at her like that.

But to Snow's absolute credit, her mother has learned to recognize the look she must get when the panic comes, and Snow pulls herself back together.

"It's perfect. I love it. Charming..." Snow starts.

Her father is on his feet coming over to join them far faster than Emma would have expected, and it occurs to her belatedly that the poker game had become far less rowdy than usual since they'd been looking at the chips, as if both men involved in the game had been distracted watching something else.

"We got one?" Charming asks, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulder, but directing his smile over at Emma.

"I think so. Finally. I'll just want to go up and make sure the colour works with the lighting in the nursery..."

"We can do that now if you want, my darling," Charming says softly.

"Well I think that's my cue to leave," Hook pipes up cheerfully, and Regina nods in agreement, standing as well.

"Em?" Snow asks. "Do you want to come up and take a look with us?"

And you know, she's really not sure what she wants, but the hope obvious on her mother's face is too much to ignore, and far too much to say no to.

"Yeah," she agrees. "I'll come up and see it in a minute. I'm gonna walk Regina and Hook out first."

It's a hell of a thing, no matter how old you are, for a child to realize just how much they can make a parent light up with even the smallest of actions.

Overwhelmed, Emma tries hard not to let her eyes follow the trail of her father helping her mother up the old staircase, but she doesn't know how well she succeeds, for turning back to the guests she's supposed to be showing to the door, she finds sympathy in Hook's expression and something unusually unreadable in Regina's.

"Alright there, Swan?" Hook asks, gentle in the way he only ever seems to be with her.

"Yeah," she says quickly, too much so, and realizing the lie as much as Hook surely recognized it, she manages to smile. "Or getting there, anyway."

"That counts," Hook points out, smiling slightly himself. "Have a good night then, love. Regina."

"Night," she murmurs, watching him walk away, catching herself too late.

Regina doesn't seem to have noticed, thank God for small favours.

"You can be angry, you know," she abruptly says. "Resentful. I would be."

Emma shakes her head, completely thrown. "Resent who?"

Shrugging, Regina sighs. "Your parents? The baby? The universe? None of this seems fair to you, after all."

"I don't..."

"No, you know what, that's me being in denial again. I keep trying to change that, and yet here I continually fall back into bad habits. Me. You should resent me. I would. I do."

"Regina," she gapes, "what are you even talking about?"

"They were like that with you too, you know that right? I saw it myself. With my magic mirror. Before they removed most reflective surfaces in their castle - having finally realized that I could use any of them to spy on them - I saw it all the time. It took Snow ages to even pick which room was to be your nursery. She wandered the castle for weeks considering it. She wanted a huge room you could grow into, she wanted it to be full of light and airy, she wanted it to be near their room so she could get to you easily when you cried in the night, because she was determined to raise you herself, not by nannies. She agonized over every decision, because she wanted everything to be perfect for you, the baby she wanted so badly, loved so much. She was _exactly_ the same way with you. This is just how expectant mother looks on Snow. She would have doted on you the same way she'll dote on this baby. I took that from all of you."

Glaring into space, for she's always found that to be an effective way to fight tears, she swallows. "_Why_ are you telling me this?"

"Because I thought I was getting justice!" Regina exclaims, throwing her arms into the air. "I thought it was only fair. She took Daniel from me, I take everything from her. But you know, being back here, having to look at Henry everyday, and see _zero_ recognition in his eyes, I've finally realized that I committed the worse crime imaginable against her. I took her _child_ from her, and that's unforgivable. And for what? To punish her for a secret she told when she was but a girl herself? I've punished her for it over and over and over again, and hey, to hell with anyone who got in my way, they were all just collateral damage. Robbing you of a life in which you would have grown up adored and cherished, why not?" Gathering herself finally, Regina finally turns to make eye contact with her. "I _miss _Henry. I miss my son looking at me and seeing his mom. I keep telling myself I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone, and then I remember, oh that's right, I did it to your parents. I made you grow up without them, tearing a beautiful life away from all of you. And now they're up there all giddy and wide-eyed over this new baby, and you're tiptoeing around heaps and piles of all the damage between the three of you, and it's not fair. Be angry, Emma. I would be."

With that said, Regina turns to walk away, leaving one stunned Savior behind her.

"Regina!" Emma calls, finding herself just before Regina is completely out of sight.

The other woman turns to look at her, expectant.

"I'm going up there," Emma announces. "I'm going to see how a colour I picked out works in a room meant for my future baby sibling. My mother will be weepy. My father will have a dopey grin on his face. There will probably be hugs. And I will be okay. None of us are so wrecked as you think we are, Regina. And Henry will remember. Someday, he will. Let us all get there."

Regina Mills nods, just once, before walking away.

It's something, Emma tells herself. It's something.

And the smile on Snow's face as she shows her how undeniably lovely that periwinkle blue will look in the room, well that's something too.

* * *

_three _

Quiet days, she's long found, never last all that long in this town.

So really, she probably should have expected it when - after a whole beautiful stretch of three hours to just quietly handle paperwork - her father and her - whatever Hook is - come bounding into the sheriff's station, boisterously taunting each other over something. Whatever it is that guys taunt each other about.

Honestly, it's the weirdest bromance she's ever seen in her life, but at least her father's not trying to kill Hook every time he opens his mouth anymore.

In fact, most of the time she'd be amused by their antics, but not today, as she fixes her fiercest glare on her father, bringing him to a sudden stop and a grin to Hook's face, no doubt delighted that for once, he's not the one in trouble with her.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing here?" she demands.

"Uh... coming to see you?" dear old dad attempts, faltering miserably. "Invite you to lunch, maybe? Granny's?"

She kind of sighs and snorts at the same time, which results in an odd little noise that Hook seems to find hilarious if his shaking shoulders are any indication, but she is too distracted by her father being a dumbass to yell at the pirate.

"No, we're not going for lunch. Snow has a doctor's appointment today, in like twenty minutes, remember? So get going."

(She'd recently made the adjustment over to calling everyone by their fairy tale names. The year everyone had spent in the Enchanted Forest had left its mark, and everyone felt far closer to their fairy tale selves. It didn't seem right to keep calling them all by Storybrooke names that didn't feel like theirs any longer.)

(Plus, it made her feel closer to them all. Like she was really part of it, this fairy tale life).

"Oh that," her father says, realization finally dawning in his eyes. "No, I shouldn't be there for that. It wouldn't be proper. Against form. I was never there for any of Snow's appointments with Doc for you."

This time she manages to snort without the sigh. "Geez, maybe that's the way things were done in the Enchanted Forest, but in this world, we highly recommend the father show up for the doctor's appointment. Don't you want to see the baby?"

The stunned look on Charming's face is almost comical. It's as if she can see him translating Enchanted Forest-to-Storybrooke in his head.

It happens sometimes to everyone with a fairy tale past, thankfully rarely, but when there's things in this world that they don't deal with on a regular basis, it throws them for a loop.

Feeling bad, Emma helps him out this time. "They'll be doing an ultrasound today. You'll get to see the baby, probably hear the heartbeat too. Trust me, you don't want to miss it. And Snow would absolutely want you there for it."

Still looking entirely dumbstruck, Charming nods rapidly, then nearly runs out of the building, only to come tearing back in ten seconds later.

"You should come with me," he announces.

She wonders if dumbstruck looks are hereditary, because she feels like she's probably rocking one right now herself.

"_What_?" she asks blankly. "I - no, it should be you guys, it's a special moment for you..."

"I'm a bit out of my head here, Em," he says, shrugging. "I didn't even think... I use a cell phone everyday, I drive a truck, and yet I completely forgot that this world has the technology to let me _see_ my baby before they're born. You... you reminded me. You knew your mother had an appointment today, and even now you're making sure I'm there for it. You're part of this family, Em, and I'm going to go see my second child, and I'd really really like it if my first were with me for that. I know Snow would too. We both want you there, Em."

The hope in his eyes just gets her in the gooey place where she keep all her complicated emotions about her parents, just as Snow always gets to her too, and she casts her eyes wildly around the station.

"I don't even know, I can't just leave, this is my job, if people need..."

In her wild circuit of the station that is somehow hers, her gaze had finally fallen on a certain pirate.

It's far, far from ideal, but if she's only gone for an hour tops...

And she trusts him, right?

Who is she kidding, of course she does.

"You!" she exclaims, startling Hook. "Hold down the fort here. Don't... don't do anything. Just if the phone rings, answer it, let whoever it is know that I'll be back in an hour. Ask for their number so I can call them back. And... that's it. Don't touch anything else."

His eyes show the bewilderment he surely feels, but Hook is Hook, and the smug smirk that is so entirely _him _works its way to his lips. "Are you declaring me 'acting Sheriff', love?"

There are so many ways this could backfire it's frightening.

She points at him. "No... no raids on Gold's shop or place or anything claiming 'official police business' or whatever. No funny business at all. You stay right here. You are a temporary phone answerer. An assistant..."

"A secretary, if you will," Charming interjects, and she can just _hear_ the grin in his voice even as she continues to stare down Hook.

The pirate responds to Charming with a wildly inappropriate gesture, before sweeping into a bow for her. "Have no worries, Swan. I will treat the task you have set me with the utmost responsibility."

"Uh huh," she says, somewhat skeptical, as her father grabs her hand and begins pulling her out of her own office with an eagerness she can't help but smile at.

"Don't make me regret this!" she calls back behind her.

They actually end up making it to the hospital just in time, finding their way to Snow's examination room and entering it just steps ahead of Doc. (Whale had been ruled out as obstetrician for obvious reasons, and with their 'feeling memories' coming back stronger and stronger, suspicions were rising over the unease, fear, and outright rage everyone experienced whenever they were near the town's local 'midwife', and so no one was letting Zelena anywhere near Snow). Their old friend felt like a good fit. He'd gone through this with Snow for Emma, after all. What difference did three decades make? Doc was a doctor in this world too, and that was what mattered.

Snow's smile lights up her whole face at their appearance, and that's what convinces Emma it really is good that she came.

"You made it," Snow nearly coos, as Charming goes over to give her a quick kiss.

"Thank Emma," Charming says sheepishly. "She's the one who pointed out that doctor's appointments work differently in this world than they did in ours."

Snow laughs. "Not to worry, Charming, it had completely slipped my mind as well. I swear I nearly had a heart attack when the nurse was doing my chart and she asked me if we wanted to know if the baby was a boy or girl."

Charming freezes. "We can... we can find that out today?" he asks, spinning to stare back at Emma, as if asking her for confirmation.

She can't help but smile. "If the baby cooperates, yeah. You guys can find out, if you want to."

"Do we want to?" Charming turns back to ask his wife.

Snow laughs. "I don't know. I told the nurse I didn't want to find out without you, but now that you're here..."

"You did say you missed my grandmother's charm when we were picking out the paint colour," Emma points out, ignoring the blush she can feel in her cheeks at the pleasure in both her parents' eyes in response to her casual reference to Ruth. "This is this world's version of it."

That said, she stands back, watches her parents watching each other, a whole conversation taking place through eye contact alone.

(She wonders what it's like to have a love like that).

She's still watching when huge, beautiful smiles spread across both of their faces.

(She can't help but smile too).

"Doc?" her father calls. "Let's find out."

"Then let's get started," the old dwarf says with a kindly smile.

The sound of the baby's heartbeat, steady and strong fills the room only minutes later. Her parents both seem hypnotized by the sound of it, overcome. To her surprise, it's her father who gets watery eyed, while her mother simply grins up at him, wonder written all over her face.

Emma sits in a chair in the corner, and closes her eyes. For a moment, it's simply too much to see.

But then Doc says he's ready to do the ultrasound, and she finds herself opening her eyes, getting up out of the chair, and going to stand with her father.

Too much, maybe, but this is something she wants to see anyway.

And oh, she thinks, as the baby's image fills the screen they all stare at. Just, oh.

The baby is big, Snow being so far along, and so their look at it is clear and distinguishable. Not at all like some ultrasounds she's seen, so early in the pregnancy that you have to be explained what's what.

No, she knows what she's looking at. Her baby sibling. Sucking their thumb, from the looks of things.

Snow cries now, while Charming smiles at the screen, his beam almost too big for his face.

"Hi baby," Snow says softly, staring, just staring, at the little face on the screen.

Doc hits a few buttons, checking on various things, but for the most part he leaves them be, a family in a moment.

She finds herself holding her father's free hand, just as his other holds Snow's, and yes, they are a family, and so when he squeezes, she squeezes back.

"Look at that," Charming murmurs. "Look at that."

It feels like they could stay there all day, just the four of them, so it's entirely startling when Doc suddenly speaks up again.

"It seems as though she's in a cooperative mood today," Doc says with a smile.

They all freeze.

"She?" Charming asks, stuttering on the word just slightly.

"Congratulations, your highnesses. You're having a baby girl."

Oh, oh, oh.

She has a little sister.

She's always wanted one, ever since she can remember.

It only took thirty years.

It's staggering, to feel so much at once, but she keeps it together, the same way she always has.

"I'm so happy for you guys," she manages, for her parents.

"Thank you," Snow says through tears, reaching over to grab Emma's free hand. "Emma, thank you for coming today, and for getting Charming here, and just, thank you."

"I'm glad I did."

She makes it back to the station within the hour she said she was going to be, and finds Hook sitting in the spare chair by her desk, working his way through a newspaper. Quiet and sane and completely lacking in chaos.

He looks up immediately when she walks in.

"Well?" he asks, with that grin he's had for her from the moment she drank the potion he gave her.

She shrugs with a rueful smile. "I have a little sister."

"Congratulations," he says, again with the gentleness. "How was it?"

"It was... a thing," she admits, intentionally vague. She knows him, knows he knows her, and he'll understand that she really doesn't know what to say about it.

"You can tell me your real feelings," he teases. "Your parents - who are your age, just in case you hadn't noticed - are having another baby thirty years your junior. Which, by the way, means your nearly teenage son is going to have a newborn aunt. It's bloody weird. And you feel it. You're weirded out by it all. Come now, you can say it, just between us, I'll never tell."

It startles the laugh right out of her, which is what he'd been going for, and his face shines with pride for it.

It goes well with the affection - maybe even adoration - she sees there every time he looks at her.

He leaves not long after, with a quip about his work there being done.

She is utterly unsurprised to find that the name plaque on her desk has been taped over to read 'Sheriff Killian Jones'.

But she is completely surprised, and somehow touched, to also find a notepad on her desk with three separate (and numbered) meticulously taken messages, written in careful hand, all with names and callback numbers circled, and times of the calls noted.

He couldn't have done a better job of what she'd asked him to do if he tried.

She smiles.

It's damn good to know that someone's always got your back.

* * *

_four _

These days, her mother was rarely seen without a book in her hand.

Everyone had gotten used to it weeks earlier, when Snow had wandered around town buried nose-deep in a pregnancy and baby book that appeared to have been written in 1952. (She'd finally accidentally-on-purpose ensured that the book had vanished, no where to be found. The stupid thing was terrifying her with wildly outdated information anyway. Belle really needed to get that library more current). But these days, ever since her doctor's appointment, Snow had scarcely been seen without a new book.

A book of baby names.

Now knowing that they were expecting a daughter, Snow and Charming found themselves trying to pick a name for her, which had proven to be a tremendous struggle.

Not that it was an argument, not at all. Snow and Charming fully agreed on just about every single name they'd looked at.

None of them were right.

"Did you have this hard of a time picking out my name?" she'd asked Snow one - beautiful - day, walking along the lakeshore with her.

"Not at all, actually," Snow admits. "I just knew your name, right from the beginning. You were always going to be my Emma."

She really hadn't known what to say to that, and she'd looked out at the water silently for a very long time.

Snow had done the same, proving once again just how well she had come to understand what she needed of her mother.

She didn't push anymore, and it meant more than Emma had figured out how to say.

"Maybe you should just wait on it," she'd said finally, not looking away from the lake, but out of the corner of her eye she sees Snow turn to look at her. "A lot of parents don't name their baby until they see them. Sometimes it takes a long time. The perfect name will come when it comes."

"Is that your way of suggesting that I put the book away for awhile?" Snow asked teasingly.

Emma had laughed. "It's a thought."

The book does disappear, though she notices a notepad that's always around somewhere when she stops by the apartment, name ideas written down in both her parents' handwriting. All classic, lovely, feminine names - the fact that this new baby is the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming is not lost on anyone - but most of the names listed have been scratched out. The few that remain have question marks next to them, as if to say 'it's a pretty name, but I don't think it's _our_ name'.

She wonders how she should feel about the fact that her name came so easily to them, and yet they are struggling so hard with her little sister's. Maybe it means something. Maybe it means nothing at all.

But what does she know about it, given that she's never named a child herself. Not in reality, anyway.

Hell, the one toy she'd had as a kid that she'd been allowed to bring from foster home to foster home had been a teddy bear named Bear, so clearly naming things was not her forte.

It was nice, though, a name for the baby being her family's only worry. Zelena had been caught as the Wicked Witch, there'd been some big showdown between her and Regina that nobody really talked about and she knew nothing about. Emma had been on Snow-watch the night it had happened, as someone had always been by her heavily pregnant mother's side, protecting her at all costs, a task considered especially important given the witch's unnatural interest in the baby. Snow had been frustrated by the watch, always preferring to be in the action, not on the sidelines of it, but she'd understood the necessity. So the two of them had had a very nice night together, watching a movie and eating ice cream and breathing very big sighs of relief when Charming had come home safely, Hook not far behind him, a wildness to his expression that had only calmed when the two of them had locked eyes.

She had the sense that some real chaos had gone down that night, and she suspected Snow probably knew far more than she did - her father didn't keep secrets from her mother - and she knew Hook would absolutely tell her if she asked, but it was alright. She didn't want to know. Everyone she cared about had come out of it alive, and the threat was gone, which was all that really mattered to her.

So she was in a real good mental place, cheerful and all, which is probably why she found herself singing under her breath as she walked into the diner to meet her parents for lunch.

"Reachin' out... touchin' me, touchin' you... Sweet Caroline... da da da... Good times never seemed so good..."

She cuts herself off abruptly when she reaches her family's usual table only to find her parents looking up at her wide-eyed.

Damn, she'd been singing louder than she'd thought. And they're both staring at her, and Snow's eyes are strangely watery, and Charming has wrapped an arm around her, pulling his wife into a hug, and the whole thing's just... weird.

"We've never heard you sing before," Snow comments, an attempt at lightness that fails completely, given how her voice waivers with it.

Trying to laugh it off, Emma jokes. "Am I that bad?"

"No, honey, you've got a lovely voice. It's just... _Caroline_," Snow says softly, carefully, almost like she's trying the name out.

Charming exhales slowly, as if overcome; unsmiling, but there's still somehow joy to his expression as he looks between the two of them, his wife and his daughter. "That's it," he agrees. "That's her name."

She flounders, as ever amazed by just how often these two can completely knock her off her bearings. "I... what? Really?"

Snow nods. "It's classic, which is what we wanted, but not too old fashioned. Feminine, pretty. You told me the perfect name would come when it comes. That's it. _You_ found it. You named your little sister, Em."

"I... I just sung a song," Emma says weakly, but she catches herself quickly. This matters to them, and she does not want to hurt them. It's one thing she has learned with certainty, is that it's her least favourite thing in the world to see her parents' faces fall because of something she said. "But um... if that's what's going to give you guys her name, that's really... that's really neat. I'm glad I could be a part of it. All of this. It's special, and um... you guys should know that."

It still feels strange though, to see her parents like this, all lit up with joy and pride and no small amount of relief, but it's not a bad thing, not like it would have been if she'd messed it all up, crushed them the way she's felt like she has too many times before.

There's so much water under their bridge, or whatever, but she feels like she's getting there anyway, working her way up and across it. Crawling on her hands and knees, maybe, but her parents are there, watching and waiting on the other side, and if she can just make it there, there will be a _baby_ waiting there for her too, and that's a hell of a thing, and it matters. And it's important they know that, they know this baby matters to her too, just like they do, even if she's not so good at saying it.

She lets herself smile, and lets her parents grip her hands, lets herself feel like their daughter for little - precious - moments at a time, because it's what they need, and maybe, just maybe, coming through with what they need is also what she needs.

"So, I'm going to go up and order something to drink," she announces. "Do either of you want anything?"

"No, I'm good, Em," Snow murmurs, and her father nods.

She walks up to the counter slowly, shoving her hands in her jeans pockets in attempt to both ignore and hide how they shake, and manages a smile for Red. "Just my usual," she orders.

"Coming right up," Red chirps, always so cheerful, but then a shadow seems to overtake her face, a seriousness Emma has scarcely seen there in the face of so much light. "Hey, Emma?" she whispers, lowering her voice to ensure that Snow and Charming cannot overhear from where they wait at the table. "I know you're scared. Of all of this. And I get it, trust me, I _so_ get it. It's insanely scary, to have a baby coming into your life, that you feel a responsibility to. You know, back in the Enchanted Forest, before the curse - the first curse - I was supposed to be your Godmother?"

"Really?" Emma asks, somehow unable to imagine it, despite how much sense it makes.

"Yeah," Red laughs, "I know it must seem ridiculous now, what with the whole time frozen for me while you grew up thing. But Snow's my best friend. Especially back in our land, we were like sisters. And when your parents found out they were expecting you, she asked me to be, and Emma, it was the greatest honour I've ever had. I was so proud to be your Godmom, at being asked to take such an important role in your life, but Gods, I was terrified too. So damn scared that I'd do something to mess it up; afraid that I shouldn't be let near you, even though I knew I had control and I would never, ever harm you. A lot of my fears were irrational, but they were part of it. Part of caring so much. About you, about your parents. It's natural, you know? Being scared, it means it matters."

Emma looks down, stunned. "I keep hearing all these stories. About how my parents planned for me, the life they wanted for me. It's crazy, and confusing, and all kinds of overwhelming, trying to reconcile in my head the life that I had and the life that I was supposed to have, and the life that this baby... my sister... the life that she _will _have, the life that I want for her. It's just, it's a lot to take in."

Red's smile is gentle and so kind when she reaches out to touch Emma's hand. "I would have been there for you. And I know it's all different now, that none of it went how we planned it, but I still can be now."

It's nice, to feel a smile that isn't forced. "I believe it."

Red grins back at her. "Good. Now, here's your hot cocoa, with cinnamon. And some chocolate chip cookies, fresh out of the oven, Granny's secret recipe."

"I didn't order these," Emma tries.

"No, I know you didn't. They're on me. Take them back and share them with your parents. Call it a present from your Godmom."

The surrealness of it all delights her.

And when she carries them back to the table, her parents grin at her laughter.

* * *

_five _

Playing video games with Henry has become more reassuring than ever. It's comforting, for her, a beautiful routine, a chance to talk to her son, to bask in the fact that she's got a really smart kid, with more wisdom to offer than any pre-teen should really have.

And also, now that he's gotten his memories back, it's a chance to talk about things, to answer any questions he might have.

He hadn't gotten angry this time, not like he did when he found out the truth about his father in New York. He'd grown up so much, returning her hug after the flash of memories, telling her not to be sorry that she hadn't told him, because let's face it, it's not like he would have believed her anyway. He needed to remember in his own time, his own way, and there was simply nothing she could have done differently.

And then he'd turned to Regina, and that moment, that hug, the joy on Henry's face, the stunned disbelief on Regina's, man, that had been something special to watch.

They were still figuring it all out, how to make it work. Henry still tended to stick pretty close to her, uncertain about his place in a life that had changed so much without him, clinging to the birth mother who was both his constant and the one person who understood how he felt right now.

So, the video game therapy sessions continued regularly, and in fact, that's what they were doing when they heard someone buzzing in to their apartment.

"Hello?"

"Hey Em," Snow cheerfully calls over the intercom. "I'm just on my way downtown to do some shopping for the baby. Wondering if you'd like to come with me?"

She glances back over at her son, who nods, encouraging her to go with a look. And, fair enough, with everything going on with Henry, she had been slacking on spending time with her mother for the last week or two.

"You know what, yeah, I'll come with. Just give me a few minutes, I'll meet you downstairs."

"Sounds good," Snow replies, and yeah, that's definite joy in her voice.

It's always startling how easily she finds she can make her mother happy.

She turns back to her son, eyeing him consideringly. Maybe they can do that for more than one mother today.

"Hey kid," she starts. "Up to you, you're old enough to decide. You want to stay here by yourself, or I could drop you off at Regina's and you spend some time with her?"

Henry's eyes light up. "I'd like option number two, actually."

"Alright then, grab your coat."

It's nice, walking over to Regina's place with Henry and Snow; three generations of family chatting about nothing and everything. Henry is excited to see Regina, Snow's delighted with the thought of shopping with her daughter - or both of them, if you want to get technical - and she's just happy to be surrounded by happy people, joy as ever being completely contagious.

And when Regina opens the door and her whole face lights up, it rings true.

"Hi Mom!" Henry greets. "Can I hang out with you for awhile?"

"Of _course_," Regina says, pulling him into a hug, looking over his shoulder up at Emma. "Was this your idea?"

"Yeah um, we've got a mother-daughter baby shopping thing happening, apparently," Emma announces, gesturing back to Snow, not missing the way her eyes light up even more at the reference. "And Henry liked the idea of coming to see you more than being by himself back at our apartment. If that's alright with you?"

"It always will be," Regina promises. "Any time, day or night, if Henry needs or wants me, I'll be there, okay."

"Thanks, Mom."

"So I'm, I'm thinking maybe we go for ice cream? If that's alright with Emma?"

"Can we?!" Henry begs.

"Aww, now I'm jealous," Emma jokes. "It sounds good to me!"

"Yes!" Henry exclaims, running into Regina's house.

"Regina," Emma starts, once Henry's out of earshot. "You're his mother too, and I know that. He lives with me right now while we figure everything out, but when he's with you, you make the calls. Big decisions about his life, we make together. But little things, like taking him for ice cream as a snack on a Sunday afternoon? Of course you can, and I really don't want you to feel like you have to confirm it with me. Alright?"

"I really appreciate that," Regina says quietly. "We're all still adjusting. Henry and I are still trying to find ourselves around each other again, and I just... I really appreciate it."

"Good," Emma smiles, turning to leave.

"And, ah - Snow?"

"Yes?" Snow asks, looking startled to have been addressed.

"I know you're probably planning to go to the children's store on Main, but... the boutique on the corner of Brooks Street, I was in there the other day, and they have some lovely baby dresses in there, I noticed and I thought... I thought I'd tell you."

To her absolute credit, Snow completely hides any shock she may feel behind what Emma knows is a genuine smile. "Thank you, Regina," she says. "We'll make sure we take a look."

"Have a nice time."

"You too."

It turns out, Regina's completely right. The dresses are probably the most adorable little thing Emma's ever seen, if a tad on the pricey side, and it literally takes the two of them a half an hour to narrow their choices down to the two they like best.

"I can't pick between them," Snow finally announces. "They're both adorable. Which one do you like best, Em? I'll get that one."

Glancing back and forth between them, Emma shakes her head. "I can't choose either. Maybe... you buy one and I'll buy the other?"

"Emma," Snow whispers, looking more touched than Emma really knows what to do with. "You don't have to..."

"No, really, I want to. Caroline's my little sister. Our age difference rules out her raiding my closet, but she should... she should have an outfit from her big sister. Let me buy her one?"

Snow finally nods after staring at her for a long time. "It means the world to me, Em. It will to your father too, and when she's old enough to understand, things like this are really going to matter to Caroline too."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her," Emma admits, as they stand together at the cash. "To see what she's like, what she looks like in these little dresses. She's going to be a gorgeous baby, there's no question about that."

"Just like her big sister," Snow murmurs.

For the first time in a very long time, Emma finds she's not scared when Snow says something like that.

They proceed on to the children's store as originally planned, all the tiny things bringing smiles to their faces. Snow picks out a couple more outfits and a few things for the nursery, nothing too crazy. She's so far along in her pregnancy - almost eight months, they figure - that most everything has already been purchased, carefully selected and placed in the beautiful periwinkle room.

It's enough to make Emma think that this excursion was more about bonding with her than shopping for the baby, and it gets her hard in the warm and fuzzy place she increasingly keeps her feelings about her family.

So when Snow goes to pay for her last few purchases, Emma stays back, just looking around the store, when something catches her eye.

It's a plush toy, a yellow duckling, small but not too tiny - perfect for little baby hands - and it suddenly seems like the most important thing in the world that Caroline have it, for reasons that she's not even entirely sure of herself. She just knows that there's reasons there, and so she grabs it and joins Snow at the register just as she finishes paying.

"Hey, so I'm thinking..." Snow starts, then cuts herself off, looking down at the stuffed animal Emma holds. "Emma?"

Oh geez, Emma can _feel_ herself blushing, but it just feels like she owes her mother some kind of explanation for why she's clutching a baby toy like it's the most precious thing she's ever seen.

"I... um... I bought Care the dress, right? Her first outfit from her big sister. And then I saw this, and I thought it'd be neat to get her first toy from me today too. And it could be like, a sentimental thing? Because I'm her big sister, and you know, my last name being Swan, and... do you think we could stop off at the bookstore? I could get her a copy of The Ugly Duckling, I always loved that story growing up. And I could read it to her, if you think she'd like that?"

Snow looks dangerously close to bursting into tears, and the closer she seems, the more Emma finds herself nervously rambling.

"Emma," Snow finally cuts her off, "sweetheart. Do you have any idea what a _wonderful_ big sister you're going to be?"

Emma gapes back at her, caught entirely off guard. "I, uh... I'm going to try. I promise you, I'm going to try."

Snow's answering smile is so affectionate, if more than a little bittersweet, that Emma can't help but grin sheepishly back at her.

"Oh, Em, if only you knew," Snow says. "You're doing a hell of a job already. You've been incredible. Absolutely incredible, this whole time. You've been there for me, more than I could have ever asked for. Cravings, the colour of the nursery, goodness, you even - if accidentally - naming her. My rock, my sweet girl. You've been my rock. And this baby is going to _adore_ you."

"I hope so," Emma manages, with a wistful smile.

"And I _know_ it," Snow smiles back. "Now let's go to that bookstore."

She makes it back to Regina's just in time to pick Henry up and bring him home for dinner, and she has a quiet meal with her son, before suggesting another round of his game that Henry accepts so quickly and eagerly that she just knows it's going to turn into another session of video game therapy.

She's fairly quiet as they play, only a little bit of teasing trash talk exchanged, knowing from experience that Henry will talk when he's ready.

"Are you jealous?" he finally asks, and that is not at all what she expected.

"Of what?"

"The baby," Henry mutters, seeming embarrassed. "Are you jealous of the baby?"

Emma shrugs, giving the thought some consideration for her son's sake. "Kid, I'm still trying to figure out how I feel. It's a lot of emotions, all together at once. Maybe there's some jealousy in there. Any chance I can ask why you're asking?"

"It's just, when Mom and I went for ice cream, we met Robin and Roland there. And Robin's a great guy. I think he really loves Mom, and I think he makes her happy. And I think Mom might just love him back, and it's good, I'm happy for her, but Roland comes with the deal, and it was just... hard to see her with him. At first, anyway. Because I can tell that she can't help but adore him, and he makes her smile, and laugh, and I'm over here still trying to figure out how I fit into her new life, and she's just so _comfortable _with Robin and Roland, that I didn't know if I liked it. But, I mean, he's a really little kid, right? So what am I doing being jealous of him? But the more attention I pay to him, the more I notice he's watching me, all wide-eyed and curious, and suddenly I realize that when I move my arm, he moves his arm, and when I eat a spoonful of my ice cream, he eats a spoonful of his, and this little kid is copying me, and it's like, stupid cute. I grinned at him, because I felt bad for having jealous thoughts, and he grins back at me, and I look over, and my Mom is just _beaming _at us like it's the best thing she's actually ever seen in her life. And that's when I finally realized, this is her life. She's probably going to marry this guy, and be stepmom to this kid, and they'll be her family, like I'm her family, and I'm the jerk who was jealous of a two-year-old who I have no idea how to be a stepbrother to."

Emma stares intently at the game, knowing the importance in their video game therapy sessions of being able to say whatever they need to to each other without feeling like they're being stared at or questioned or judged. Henry does the same, though she knows he watches her out from the corner of his eye; being much, much better at the game than she is, he can afford to do so.

She lets herself smile.

"And you know what I just heard in all of that?" she asks. "I heard my son work through a lot of complicated feelings in a very mature way. That's what life is, kid. It's figuring it all out, one little bit at a time. My mom's having a _baby_ in a few weeks. I've been an only child for thirty years, but I'm not anymore, and I'm working through that too. I've got to learn how to be a big sister, and I will. When she's here, and I can hold her, and talk to her, and play with her, I will. I'll learn how to be a sister as I go, just like you'll learn how to be a brother as you go, if and when it comes to that."

"You're going to be a great big sister," Henry proclaims, and she can hear in his voice that he's smiling.

"So I keep hearing," she sighs. "And how do you know that?"

"Because you're an amazing mom," he says, so easily it stuns her.

She pauses the game, to Henry's great offense.

"You," she announces, reaching over to tickle him, relishing in his laughter, "always know the exact right thing to say. And if I'm a good mom at all, it's because I have the _best _kid."

"I love you, Mom," he says, so genuine.

And yes, she thinks. That's it.

"Love you too, kid."

* * *

_and one _

The first full night Henry spends over at Regina's, Emma spends about thirty seconds considering staying in and having herself a lovely evening of pampering herself. Taking a long bath, doing her nails, making some popcorn and watching the cheesiest movie she can find.

She rules it out immediately after giving it its due thirty second consideration, and finds herself at her parents' apartment ten minutes later.

Their relationship is in a really good place where they can just laugh together, have fun together, and she likes it, so damn much.

It's just an easy-going night, playing board games, of all random things.

So, of course, her mother's water breaks.

For a very long moment, the three of them just stare at each other.

"Um," Emma deadpans. "Holy crap."

"Yeah," her father sighs.

"You _think_?" Snow hisses.

It's another long moment of staring at each other then, before Emma flies to her feet, throwing the unfinished board game - double checking that no pieces go flying - back into its box, insisting very seriously to her somewhat dumbstruck parents, "You can't have little pieces everywhere when you're bringing a baby into the house!"

Her father snorts, just on the edge of laughter, but Snow stays quiet, and it occurs to Emma that this is not at all a good sign, and from there, how very unusual this is.

"Snow," she starts warily, "I don't think it's typical for the water to break right at the beginning of labour. How long have you been having contractions?"

The look on her mother's face, somehow sheepish and pained both, does not encourage her.

"Awhile?" Snow admits, and the colour drains so fast from Charming's face it'd be entertaining in different circumstances.

"Snow," she says, again in the same tone. "How far apart are your contractions now?"

"A couple of minutes?" Snow offers through gritted teeth. "I haven't exactly been counting!"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Charming demands.

"I thought they were Braxton Hicks!" Snow cries. "I read about those in my pregnancy book!"

"The book from _1952_?" Emma shrieks. "Oh my God, Mom, new rule, when you're hurting, you tell us! And for crying out loud, Dad, aren't you supposed to have some true love mind voodoo that tells you when she's in pain?"

"I think that only works when one of us is dying..." he muses.

"Baby coming, big picture, please!" Snow hisses.

"We need to get you to the hospital. Right now." Emma announces.

"Can we move her?" Charming asks. "When she was in labour with you, there was a certain point when Doc said it was too dangerous to move her..."

"And you are telling me this _now_?" she demands, damn near hysterical. "I'm going to get Doc!" she decides, running out the door and slamming it behind her, leaving her parents to stare at each other.

"Hell of a time for her to forget about phones," Charming offers.

Snow huffs out a laugh this time, near blissful in the short moment between contractions, and when he touches her face, so gentle, she leans into it, closing her eyes, just for a second, before they blink open again, huge with realization. "Did she just call us Mom and Dad?"

Charming tilts his head, considering, before a large grin spreads across his face. "You know, I think she did."

"I thought so," Snow whispers, before immediately screaming her way through her largest contraction yet.

"It's okay, it's okay," Charming chants, wiping her brow with a cloth. "You're doing great. I'm right here. I'll be with you the whole time."

"We're having another baby," she breathes.

"We're having another baby," he agrees.

Doc shows up not long after, a slight hint of amusement in his wise eyes, and catching that, Charming shakes his head at him.

Snow might be well into labour, but he's still pretty sure his wife would and could kill anyone who dares be entertained by any of this.

Doc sobers quickly, conducting his initial check-up with the seriousness they'd come to expect from him. "You have quick labours, your majesty," he finally says. "Everything is going well, but your family made the right call not to try and move you. It's already almost time to push, Snow."

"You have _got _to be kidding me," Snow cries, letting her head fall back onto Charming's shoulder.

"Not at all, I'm afraid," Doc sighs. "We'll have to deliver the baby here. But it will be quite alright."

"Where's Emma?" Snow demands. "Did she come back with you?"

"Hmm?" Doc asks, truly bewildered. "Emma wasn't with me at any point. She called to tell me to get over here, and quickly, for she thought you were rather far along in your labour already. Quite right she was too."

"But where _is_ she?" Snow cries.

"She'll be back, my love," Charming murmurs. "You just focus on right here, right now. We need to have this baby, you and me."

"Okay," Snow breathes. "Okay."

Emma does not make it back before a baby's cry pierces the air, a new life announcing her presence to the world.

Caroline is placed into her mother's arms first - her father insisting upon it - and this time, nothing and no one will take the newborn away.

Charming holds Snow, and Snow holds Caroline, and together, they cry.

Three hours later, Snow rests on the couch, sleepily jabbing at her phone, making calls to anyone who may know where Emma is. Her daughter is not answering and that worries her. Regina insists that Emma hasn't come by her place for Henry, but that if she does she'll let her know her family wants to see her. Her stepmother then congratulates her quietly and sincerely, and that truly means something. Hook also hasn't seen her, but he promises to immediately go looking for her, and that matters too. Meanwhile, Charming takes his turn holding his daughter, carefully, so carefully, walking around the apartment, showing the baby her new home.

It's that scene that Emma finally stumbles in on when she comes dashing into the apartment, obviously out of breath and overwhelmed, and her slightly wild eyes immediately lock on her mother.

"Em!" Snow exclaims, wishing she could get up. "Em, I was so worried, you don't..."

"The baby came early," Emma rushes out, cutting her off. "I'd been expecting you to go forty weeks, I'd _planned _on you going the full forty weeks, and she came early on me and I wasn't ready yet. I was supposed to have it all done, ready for when she came, but she surprised me, and I'm sorry Mom, I'm so sorry I wasn't here, but it was important, I needed to _finish_ it, so I had to go see Granny."

"Emma," Snow starts, bewildered. "You're not making much sense, take a deep breath for me, and..."

"Here," Emma says, pulling something out of a bag Snow hadn't even noticed she was carrying. "This is for Caroline."

And Snow takes one look at it and gasps.

It's a baby blanket.

Obviously homemade, it's knitted from cream wool and threaded with periwinkle ribbon, exactly the colour of the paint that Emma had been the one to choose for the nursery, and just from a quick glance, she can see that it's also embroidered with her youngest daughter's name, again in perfect periwinkle thread.

It's a replica of Emma's own blanket, made special for Caroline.

Its edges are also uneven. There are knots in the wool, a few overly gaping holes. It's imperfect, as if it had been painstakingly made by someone who had never knitted before.

Snow feels like she could swallow her own tongue.

_Emma_ made this. She made a baby blanket for her sister.

Snow raises a shaking hand to her mouth. "_Em_," she breathes.

"I know it's not perfect," Emma says quickly. "I've never knitted before, so there's lots of mistakes. Granny has been teaching me, helping me along. A little bit at a time, a few nights a week. And I got frustrated, so often. There were so many times I just wanted to give up and ask her to just knit it for me, but I just couldn't, because it felt like this was a thing I _had_ to do. Because my baby blanket, to me it was love. No matter where I ended up, I had this one thing that my birth parents had left me with, this beautiful, handmade thing that told me that I had been loved. That I shouldn't give up, not entirely. Because somewhere out there, was the people who had left me with this, and they wouldn't have done that if they didn't love me. And I wanted Caroline to have that too. I wanted her to have something that she could _always_ have with her, that she could look at and know she was loved. And I wanted it to be from me. _Really_ from me. Like I passed it on to her. A thing we could share, no matter how far apart we are in age, we'd both have that, a symbol of our family, of our parents, of the love we both come from. But also something that would be special for her. Proof that it's not just her parents who love her. Her sister loves her too. And I wanted her to know that, right from the beginning. That's why I disappeared. It wasn't quite done, I hadn't finished embroidering her name yet, and I wanted, I _needed_ to finish it, so I could give it to her on the day she was born, and we could truly say that she's had it forever."

Snow swallows. "I really wish there were words for this, Em. Some way to tell you how much this means to us, what it'll mean to Caroline as she grows up and understands. But there aren't, there's no words good enough. It's... _perfect_, sweetheart. The most extraordinary gift."

"You think she'll like it?" Emma asks, almost shyly. "I know it's no where near as nice as mine is..."

"We love it all the more for it," Snow interrupts. "_You_ made it. Honey, it would have been wonderful even if you'd asked Granny to make it for you, so special that you wanted to share something that meant a lot to you with your sister. But this? To make it yourself? It's incredible, Emma. She'll grow up knowing that even before she was born, her sister cared enough to do this for her."

Smiling, Emma walks around to the couch, bending to pull her mother into a hug. "That's what I wanted, Mom. I know I got her the little dress, and the duck, and I love that I was able to do that, I love that I'll be able to do that her whole life, treat her to things, spoil her a little bit. But this mattered in a whole different way. I wanted her to _know_."

Snow touches the blanket, tracing her fingers along the embroidered name. "How long have you been working on this little surprise anyway?" she asks.

"Since I first came home and saw she was coming," Emma says softly, grinning at the way Snow's eyes widen. "I decided I wanted to do it that night, and I went to see Granny the next day. We've been working on it ever since. It felt important, you know? I kind of thought... I guessed that you wouldn't have asked Granny to recreate mine for her, not with the way you're so careful about me and my feelings. But I wanted her to have one. And I wanted it to be from me. So that you guys know that it's okay. It's always been okay. I'm ready to be a sister. I want to be one."

"In that case," Charming interjects, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived. He looks suspiciously red eyed, and there's a look on his face that suggests he's completely stunned, as if she'd whacked him over the head just as her mother had so many times, but emotionally on her part. He offers the baby to her. "Do you want to hold her?"

At this, Emma - who'd been so entirely focused on her mother she'd noticed little else - finally gets her first real look at Caroline, and she feels her jaw drop.

She's the _tiniest_, most absolutely precious thing she has ever seen, and she's just struck by it, so absolutely.

Feeling everything at once, a tiny explosion in her head and heart. Like catching lightning in a bottle, she thinks vaguely.

She's real. And she's here. And she _wants_ her.

She nods dumbly. "Yeah," she whispers. "Yeah, Dad, I wanna hold her."

Her father passes the baby to her, and she glances at him quickly, sees the single tear falling down his face, feels her own eyes well up, before focusing the entirety of her attention on the little girl she is taking into her arms.

"Hi," she finds herself cooing, a little voice she'd had no idea she was capable of in reality. "C'mere, c'mere. Hi sweetie, hi little girl. I'm Emma. I'm your... _really_ big sister."

Caroline's eyes blink open, and she stares up at her with the bluest eyes Emma has ever seen.

"_Oh_," Emma sighs, dragging out the word, overcome.

A few hours old, and a little knockout already. Figures.

"Oh you're just gorgeous, aren't you? Gonna give your daddy fits," she laughs, grinning at the way Charming rolls his eyes and looks very put out.

"But that's alright, isn't it Carly," she starts, before glancing back at her parents with huge eyes. "Is it okay if I call her that? She looks like a Carly."

"You can call her anything you like," Snow murmurs, wiping at tears. "You named her."

"Yeah, I kinda did," Emma muses, looking back down at the baby in her arms. "Accidentally, but that's still cool, right Car? That'll be a story I'll get to tell you. You'll have so many stories in your life, really, really great, epic stories that you'll get to grow up with, and the best part is, they're all _real_. Stories of kingdoms and fairies and _magic_. But you know what else, baby girl? They'll be stories of friendship and family and love, the most special, amazing love of all," she says, grinning back at her parents, watching as Charming makes his way onto the couch beside Snow, and gently, so carefully, pulling his wife into his arms.

"Oh yeah, I've got stories for you, kiddo," she continues. "Because you know what? You and me, we got really, really lucky. Our parents are _awesome_. They're really, really great. They understand, and they're there for you, and they love more than anyone I've ever met, which is pretty cool, cause you know what that means? Lots and lots of love for you, little one!"

She exhales, attempting for a moment to fight the tears she can feel welling, before giving up and letting them come as they may.

"Here's the thing, Carly," she murmurs. "It was hard, for me, for a very long time. Sometimes the fairy tale is hard. But you, you've got a whole bunch of people who are going to make sure that nothing bad ever happens to you. We're all gonna give you your best chance, and your best chance is different than mine was. And everyone means well, but you know, ever since I knew you existed, they've all been telling me how I should feel about that. And I don't know if I liked that very much, because _I _didn't know how I felt, so how could anyone else? But you know who didn't, baby girl? Our mom and dad, that's who! They let me be there as you grew in mom's tummy, they let me be part of your life, while _I _figured out how I felt about you. No pushing. Just understanding, and patience, and love, that love that I keep bringing up, because it's important, Carly, it's so important. And that's what it comes down to."

"People thought I should be sad, or angry, or jealous of you, kiddo. They thought I'd be scared. They thought I'd be weirded out. And it's nice, cutie pie, it's nice that they care, it's nice that they've all tried to be there for me, all in their own way. But Carly, all I really wanted, from the very beginning, when I made my way home and saw you growing, I just wanted to make you a blanket. That's it. So simple, and so complicated, because in this family, there's _so many_ feelings woven into that blanket. It's safety and comfort and belonging. And that's what I wanted for you. That's what I felt for you. It was crazy, kiddo, this roaring protective instinct I felt from the moment I saw you, something I've only ever felt for my son. I wanted you safe, I wanted you happy, I wanted you hidden away from anything that could ever, _ever_ hurt you. I never resented you, sweetie, not even for a moment. I wanted you to have everything that I couldn't. I wanted to be _part_ of giving you all of it. And that's a lot to feel, all at once, so much that for a really long time, I couldn't put a name to it. But I've got you in my arms, staring up at me, and I can name it now."

"I love you, Caroline," she promises. "I've loved you from the moment I knew you were coming, and it's really important that you know that, so I'm going to tell you everyday, okay? You're always going to know it, I promise you. You're going to know how much you're loved, you're going to grow up knowing our whole family is full of it. The way I love you, the way Mom and Dad love us, and the way we love them," she murmurs, glancing over at Snow and Charming. "You can't talk yet, so I'll tell them for us both, okay? That we both really, really love our parents, and they should always know that."

"And we love you," Charming whispers.

"_So_ much," Snow adds. "We always have. We love our girls more than anything in the world."

"You see," Emma murmurs, grinning back down at the baby. "So much love. You have no idea, kiddo. But you'll learn. Your big sister's gonna make sure of it."

Soon after, an influx of visitors starts coming by, eager to see the new little princess.

It's started by Hook, who struts in like he owns the place with only a perfunctory knock on the door. "I hear the prodigal sister made it back safe," he drawls, but the relief in his voice is so obvious that there is zero sting in the words themselves. "And that congratulations are in order," he says, pulling Charming into the prototypical man-hug that leaves Emma grinning.

"And the spicy gentleman in leather over there is Killian," she coos to the baby she still holds. "He and daddy have the weirdest bromance in _all _the worlds."

Having caught his attention, Hook grins over at her, surely with some absurdly inappropriate quip to make, but his eyes immediately go huge, and whatever he had to say seems to fade away completely, warmth and affection replacing the teasing in his eyes.

She thinks of what she must look like, holding a newborn, adoration for the baby all over her face; knowing how he feels about her. She wonders if he's envisioning another baby, one who doesn't look _quite_ so much like her, less of the soft, rounded features she and Caroline had both inherited from Snow, and more of his sharp angles.

It stuns her how easily she can picture it too, and wonders at how much Hook had come to feel like family, like home. Wonders when that happened.

"Where's the hook, Hook?" Charming asks, taunting, so very father-like not to notice the intense looks being exchanged between his eldest daughter and his best friend.

Hook shakes off whatever he'd been feeling with a rueful grin. "Didn't seem right to have it around a baby, mate, especially yours. Show of respect, somethin' like that."

"Didn't know you had it in you," Charming starts, but Emma's distracted, paying attention to Hook's other hand, and what he carries in it.

"Killian Jones," Emma grins in amazement, cutting her father off. "Have you come bearing gifts?"

Hook actually blushes, going red in a way that only she seems to be able to make him do, and it's an ability that gives her a tremendous amount of satisfaction.

"It's not much," Hook warns, but she _feels_ her whole face light up when he pulls the plush horse out of the gift bag. Velvet, by the looks of things, a lovely rich brown, with a long black tail that Emma could already envision Carly spending hours carefully brushing.

"Hook, you didn't have to bring anything," Snow calls from the couch, but it's obvious in her voice that she's touched too.

"It just seemed as though every shepherd-bandit-princess should have a noble steed of her very own," Hook says, downplaying it, though he seems unquestionably pleased by the reaction to his gift. "Too perfect not to get it when I saw it."

"Oh, kiddo, so many toys already," Emma coos to the baby. "We're going to have the best tea parties, aren't we? With your horse, and your duck, and that ginormous collection of teddy bears daddy insisted on you having. We'll have to teach Uncle Killian how to drink tea properly, see if we can refine a pirate yet."

"It'd be my honour," Hook says softly, dropping into a short bow.

Charming is still grinning at everyone, so obviously thrilled with his entire life. "Hey, you want to hold her?"

"Awww, man, does that mean I have to share her?" Emma whines.

"Not at all," Hook interjects, that same warmth from before plain in his eyes. "Far be it for me to separate the sisters when they seem so cozy."

It means a lot, she thinks vaguely, that even when she's being outwardly playful, he can read her true motivations and know that she's not quite ready to let the baby go just yet. It shows how well he really understands her.

She's not used to it, nor how much she likes it.

"Y'know, you can come over and get a better look," she tells him seriously. "I may want her all to myself, but you don't have to stay all the way over there. C'mon, get over here."

Hook walks over slowly, as if still uncertain of his place here, but when he does get close enough to get a good look at Caroline, his whole face softens.

"Little beauty, she is," Hook comments. "You Charmings seem to have a talent for producing pretty kids."

"Hey now," Charming warns, seeming to have finally clued in to a few things. "Watch your- hey!" he exclaims, apparently having been slapped in the back of his head by his wife.

Emma snorts. _Thanks Mom_.

Hook reaches over, gently touches Caroline's little foot. "So small," he murmurs, but laughs when the baby immediately kicks out. "But with the family spunk, quite clearly."

"She's perfect," Emma declares, daring him to disagree.

"Can't argue with that," he says, putting his index finger out to the baby and looking so stunned, so thrilled, when Carly wraps her little fist around it.

"She's incredible," he breathes.

"Hey," Emma starts, looking up at him. "You've always had my back, and that's something we've never talked about. It's just been that way. But I need it confirmed from you now. Because there's _always_ something in our lives. It's quiet now, but we all know eventually the Abominable Snowman or someone's going to show up, claiming to be Mom's great uncle or Dad's surprise evil triplet, with some master plan to curse us all to Atlantis, and we'll deal with it, we always do, but I've got a baby sister now, and right now she's kind of seeming like the whole world, and I just really need to know that you'll help me protect her, no matter what comes. She stays safe."

"I only understood about half of that, Swan," Hook admits, "but you have my word. No matter what - Snowman? - may come, this little darlin' stays safe. I'd protect her with my life, love. Your whole family. You all matter to me, Emma. More than you know."

"I know more than you think," Emma murmurs, locking eyes with him. "But it's good to hear anyway."

"Aww, hell," Charming groans, in what he probably thinks is a whisper to Snow. "I'm going to have to accept this, aren't I?"

Emma laughs, Hook's whole stupidly beautiful face lights up, and Carly's eyes close, drifting off to sleep in her big sister's arms.

Still, even with the baby asleep, everyone coming by to visit cannot help but coo over her, the baby who seems destined to be spoiled.

Regina brings Henry by to see his new aunt, and as her son laughs over how tiny his aunt is, Regina smiles genuinely, presenting Snow with a gift bag that turns out to be full of several of the dresses that Snow and Emma had had such a hard time eliminating from their choices on that day shopping at the boutique. It's a truly generous gift, and kind, but Emma knows that the sincere congratulations Regina expresses mean far more to her mother.

"She'll be the best dressed baby in town," Regina offers, just as Snow pulls a set of toy stacking blocks out of the gift bag as well. "And those are from Henry, actually. He insisted on buying them himself."

"Someday I'll teach her how to build a castle with them!" Henry suggests, interrupting himself from the series of funny faces he's making at the baby. "It's an important skill she should have. And also, it's fun to knock them down when you're done with them."

No one can argue with that.

The dwarves stop by together to present a mobile they'd clearly made special; shimmering with dangling crystals, in the right light, it'll look just like the stars hanging above Caroline's crib. The present of course sends Snow into fits of tears, leaving all seven dwarves looking rather bashful indeed.

Red's gift is practical and gently teasing both, a digital camera with its own little printer.

"I know you've insisted you don't need anything more than your little disposable cameras," Red grins at her best friend, "but trust me, you're going to be happy you have a real camera now."

The gift is complete with a small set of beautiful picture frames, one of which Red had already filled in with a candid she'd clearly taken surreptitiously, of Snow, Charming and Emma standing together. Charming has his arm around Snow, as close as two people could be, and Emma is angled towards them both, a little affectionate smile playing at her lips.

She's looking not at her parent's faces, but at her mother's heavily rounded belly.

No one who ever looked at the photograph would ever doubt, even for a moment, how much the first child adored the second.

And so, when Emma finally does hand the baby back over to her mother, the very first thing she does without Caroline in her arms is to go over and ask Red if she can get her own copy of that picture.

It's quiet, later, after everyone else leaves. Snow sits upright on the couch, Caroline in her arms, and Emma right next to her, her head resting on her mother's shoulder. It's a little moment, but extraordinary, and she knows she's not the only one to feel it when her mother murmurs softly, "Love my girls."

"Your girls love you too," she whispers back, immediately, without having to think about it, and when she sees the flash of the camera go off, she's utterly unsurprised.

Her father's got a weakness for the moment.

And she watches Charming beam at the picture they make, Emma Swan knows she'll be needing that one too.

_end _

* * *

**_Author's Note: This was such an extraordinary joy to write. If you all love it even half as much as I did, I'd consider myself ecstatic. _**

**_Thanks, as always, for reading. _**


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